


Control

by clizziem



Series: Don't Smile at Me [19]
Category: Avatar: The Last Airbender
Genre: Alternate Universe - High School, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Angst, Angst with a Happy Ending, But there's a lot of hurt, Child Abuse, Gen, He Gets a Hug, Hurt/Comfort, Iroh (Avatar) is a Good Uncle, M/M, Ozai (Avatar) Being a Terrible Parent, Suicidal Thoughts, Ursa is trying kind of, Zuko (Avatar) Needs a Hug
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-15
Updated: 2021-01-15
Packaged: 2021-03-12 21:22:27
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,379
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28767030
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/clizziem/pseuds/clizziem
Summary: The first time his father hits him, he doesn’t even remember it. He’s three years old and at the Tokyo airport. He doesn’t understand why they’re leaving and why he keeps hearing all the adults speaking in a language he doesn’t know. So he expresses himself the only way he knows how as a toddler. He starts crying and doesn’t stop.There are a lot of firsts in Zuko's life.
Relationships: Azula & Zuko (Avatar), Ozai & Zuko (Avatar), Ozai/Ursa (Avatar), Sokka/Zuko (Avatar), The Gaang & Zuko (Avatar)
Series: Don't Smile at Me [19]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2079291
Comments: 8
Kudos: 293





	Control

**Author's Note:**

> Hello again. This one took me a little while to crank out and it's super angsty but I kind of love it. TW for suicidal thoughts and a little more graphic abuse (I upped the rating for that stuff) and I think that's all that needs the TW.  
> Enjoy!

The first time his father hits him, he doesn’t even remember it. He’s three years old and at the Tokyo airport. He doesn’t understand why they’re leaving and why he keeps hearing all the adults speaking in a language he doesn’t know. So he expresses himself the only way he knows how as a toddler. He starts crying and doesn’t stop. His mom is busy trying to contain his little sister so his father picks him up and carries him to the bathroom. He doesn’t stop and his father looks big and angry and it scares him. His father tells him to be quiet. That they’re about to get on a plane and he doesn’t want to deal with a screaming baby. That his little sister can keep herself quiet, why can’t he? But it doesn’t stop the tears and then he feels a sting and hears a clap and his head is whipped to the side. His father stares at his hand and then steels himself. He’s too shocked to do anything when his father picks him up and brings him back to his mom, sister, and uncle. His father does not hit him again.

The next first time his father hits him, he’s four and not learning English fast enough. The characters look weird and they’re not even called characters and they sound different from what he thinks they’re going to sound like and he doesn’t understand why he can’t just speak Japanese.

“We have to, sweetie,” his mother tells him. “Most people here don’t speak Japanese.”

“Quit coddling him, Ursa,” his father says and he hates that tone of voice he hears in his father’s voice because he’s not used to hearing it. “If he’s not learning, I’ll start teaching him.”

“No,” Zuko says and clings to his mother’s sleeve. His father glares and reaches out and grabs his arm.

“Ozai, wait-” his mother begins but she’s cut off by that sting and clap, and this time Zuko tastes blood. He hears his mother shriek but all he can see are his father’s angry and fiery eyes. 

“You’re going to learn. And if suffering is your teacher, then so be it,” his father growls and drags him upstairs to study. His father hits him again after that one.

The first time Azula saves him, he’s six and she’s five and they’re on a long car ride. They’re going to Uncle Iroh’s cabin in the woods and he’s antsy. He doesn’t know how long he’s been strapped into the car seat and the nothingness stretches on and on. His bottom hurts and his legs are cramping and he tries to stretch in the seat and his father glares at him from the rearview mirror.

“Stay still, Zuko,” his father hisses at him. His mother turns in her seat and reaches her hand out to him.

“Ozai, we can pull over for a second. Just let the little ones stretch their legs out.”

“And slow us down? Azula’s doing fine!” His father exclaims, throwing a hand out towards Azula sleeping in her car seat. Zuko doesn’t miss how his mother flinches back. It might have something to do with the bruises he sees on her arms sometimes.

“Azula’s always been more comfortable during car rides. Ozai-”

“Fine!” His father snaps and pulls the car over to the side of the road. He unbuckles and throws the car door open and then rips Zuko’s door open. “Get the fuck out of your seat,” he growls and undoes the buckle across Zuko’s stomach.

“Ozai-” his mom begins but she stops when his father sends her a stare of daggers. His mom faces forward and his father pulls Zuko out of the car.

“You’re hurting me,” Zuko whimpers and tries to pull his arm out of his father’s grasp.

“Shut up and stretch you worthless creature,” his father snarls. Zuko starts shaking and his eyes well up with tears. His father is huge and scary and Zuko doesn’t like being called worthless. His father growls and grabs his arm again and raises his hand only to stop when they all hear,

“Zu-Zu?” Azula asks with wide, confused eyes. His mom holds her breath but his father drops his hand. It takes Zuko a second to realize he hasn’t been hit and his father pushes him towards the car.

“Get back in your seat,” he mutters. Zuko runs back into the car and buckles himself in. His mother is breathing heavily and Azula keeps looking between Zuko and his father. Azula saves him over and over.

The first time his father properly beats him, he’s nine and his mother has vanished into thin air. He wakes up, barely able to remember that his mom held him in her arms last night and told him to never forget who he is, and runs downstairs calling for her. He’s greeted with a punch to the side of his head and he falls into a bench by the door and his vision swims and he looks up at the looming figure of his father standing over him.

“Where...Where’s mom?” Zuko asks. His father doesn’t answer. He just grabs Zuko’s shirt and holds him against the wall. Zuko starts squirming, trying to get free when his father pulls his fist back, and then it’s slamming into his cheek.

His eye.

His nose.

His hairline.

His brow bone.

His jaw.

It’s so much different from his father’s open palm or the back of his hand. This feels like a rock. And it’s not a sting anymore. It’s an ache and it pulses with deep, dull pain.

Zuko decides this is worse than getting slapped.

Then he’s crying and his father is shouting at him but he can’t hear what he’s saying and then he collapses to the floor and a foot rams into his stomach.

His chest.

His groin.

His shoulders.

If his father’s fist is like a rock, this is a battering ram. Sharper aches and he can feel it deeper.

His father reaches down and grabs his throat and squeezes. Zuko chokes and wraps his hands around his father’s wrists and tries to pry them off him.

“Dad-” he gasps and his father squeezes harder and digs his nails into his neck and Zuko starts seeing black spots.

“Pathetic worthless mongrel,” his father hisses and Zuko realizes he’s about to die. He can barely see anymore and his lungs are screaming for air.

He doesn’t want to die. He wants to find his mom. He wants to see his sister.

He uses what little strength he has left and kicks out. He lands a blow on his father’s ankle and he lets go. Zuko gasps for air and then darts up the stairs.

His mom is gone.

But there’s someone else in the house who can keep him safe.

He loses track of how many times he’s properly beaten.

The first time he thinks he might be different, he’s thirteen and fresh out of the hospital. He’s sitting in the back, only kind of listening while his classmates give presentations. He’s doodling in his notebook and counting down the minutes until he can take more painkillers for his eye.

“Well done, guys. Round of applause, everyone,” Mrs. Hennessy says and some scattered claps sound throughout the classroom. Zuko flinches at every single one and has to remind himself he hasn’t been hit. “Zuko, please pay attention,” she snaps. He jumps in his seat and throws his notebook into his desk and sits upright. “Okay, next group is Teo, Haru, and Sokka,” she says cheerfully and there are more scattered claps. Zuko looks up from his desk and his eye immediately lands on Sokka. Zuko knows they’ve been in the same grade forever, but this is the first time they’ve had a class together.

Zuko decides he’s...interesting.

He likes the way the sides of Sokka’s head are shaved and that the rest is pulled into a ponytail. It looks so much better than the high ponytail Zuko had before he got burned. He likes how dark his skin is and how it makes his blue t-shirt stand out. He likes how he wears shorts most of the time so he can see his calves that look so strong and muscular from soccer.

Zuko rubs his shaved head self-consciously and wonders if Sokka’s ever even noticed him.

Probably not.

Or if he has, it’s probably because Zuko’s ugly and weird.

Teo starts talking about their presentation topic and Zuko just watches Sokka.

He wonders what it would be like to hold his hand or put his hands on his body and Zuko has to look away.

He’s starting to feel the same way he feels when he walks past certain shops at the mall and he has to look out of the corner of his eye so his father won’t notice. The shops have muscular men without shirts on and their hair is wet and their jeans are riding low on their hips and it makes Zuko’s stomach swirl and heartbeat a little faster.

Sokka starts talking and Zuko rubs the back of his neck. He likes his voice. It’s lively and bright and his smile makes the classroom seem a little brighter and the pain in his face eases up. He really hopes he doesn’t have a crush. He can’t have a crush on a boy.

Sokka and his group finish their presentation and this time Zuko claps a little. Part of him stupidly hopes that Sokka will look his way. But he goes to sit by Suki Liu with a smile across the room. Zuko puts his hands down and bites his lip. He can’t cry right now. Sokka doesn’t notice Zuko for a while.

The first time he seriously contemplates taking his own life he’s fifteen and already covered in blood. Ozai punched him in the nose and blood spurted all over his face so he’s cleaning it off in his bathroom. He reaches for the faucet and winces from the pain in his ribs and he hears the fabric of his shirt rip somewhere. He’s running out of clothes. Ozai won’t buy him new ones; he says he doesn’t want to waste time and money on Zuko.

Zuko can’t help but agree with him. He wouldn’t waste time or money on himself either.

He turns the water off and stares at his reflection. The scar doesn’t really phase him anymore. He’s gotten used to what he looks like. He lifts his fingers and runs the tips over the bruises blossoming on his nose, unscarred eye, and cheek.

How has no one noticed? Has no one found him and Azula in the bathroom before classes start with a bottle of foundation to hide his marks? Has no one seen him limping or flinching or not eating at lunch? He can’t call for help. Neither can Azula.

He does realize that no one else can. But if someone knows, why couldn’t they tell him? Maybe they could figure something else out to get him and his sister out of here. 

Sometimes he wants to tell Azula not to put makeup on his face. Sometimes he wants to go to class bruised and broken and let them see. Let them see he’s in danger and needs help.

They’d probably assume he tripped or got into a fight or something. Or did it to himself. They all think he’s stupid and strange.

He growls and punches the mirror.

It shatters in a nova and he collapses with the pieces. He holds his bleeding hand to his chest and sobs.

“Help me,” he whispers at nothing and watches a tear fall onto a shard of the mirror.

A sharp, jagged shard.

He picks it up with his bleeding hand and stares at it.

It could cut.

It could cut  _ him _ .

It could cut him  _ open _ .

He glances at the bathtub and bites his lip. How long could it take? Two minutes? Five? Ten minutes tops and he could free Azula from a role she was never ready to take on. She could go to their uncle. She’s always said that when she leaves she wants to take Ozai down with her but without him...there’s nothing keeping her here. He loves her so much, but all he’s ever done is cause her pain. She’d be better off without him.

He could stop being in pain.

The beatings hurt. Being alone hurts. Being ignored by his peers hurts. Missing his mom hurts. Hating his father hurts.

Being unloved hurts.

Ten minutes tops and he wouldn’t have to be unloved anymore. He wouldn’t have to be ignored anymore. He wouldn’t have to...well...he’d still miss his mom.

_ I’d miss you too much _ , Azula once said to him.

_ Please stay with me. I know you need me a lot, but I need you, too,  _ Azula once said to him.  _ Promise me you’ll stay. _

And Zuko promised her.

He wants to go.

But he promised his little sister he’d stay.

He drops the shard of glass, pulls the pieces out of his hand, staggers to his feet, and falls into bed. He thinks about dying a lot after that.

The first time he ever feels safe he’s sixteen and at his uncle’s house. He wakes up from a nightmare, some memory from his fourteenth birthday, and screams in remembered pain and terror. His eyes are open but the memory isn’t gone. He’s on the floor in Ozai’s room with his hands tied with a short strand of rope and trapped against the bed’s foot post. He’s pulling but the rope just hits the post and he can’t get away and he’s shirtless and scared and Ozai has a knife and he knows what’s coming and he doesn’t want it.

“Leave me alone! Please!” He sobs and screams but Ozai just comes closer and closer and the knife glints in the low light.

He can hear Azula but he can’t find her and it scares him even more and he just screams and screams for Ozai to stop and to leave him alone and he hates this. There are more voices and he thinks he’s finally gone insane until he’s scooped up and held against a soft body. He shuts his eyes again and this time the memory vanishes, too.

“...your father’s not here, Zuko,” a voice says. Uncle Iroh’s voice. Zuko thinks he hears him say something else but he can’t hear it. He’s clinging to those two words.

“Not...Not here?” He asks in a small voice.

“Not here. Can you look up at me, my boy?” Iroh’s voice asks. Zuko opens his eyes and sees Azula sitting on the floor with tears in her eyes. She’s breathing heavily and looks...terrified. He hasn’t seen her like that in ages. He lifts his gaze and finds Iroh.

Zuko opens his mouth to speak but flinches when he hears the doorbell. Azula fumes and stands up. She goes downstairs and Iroh hugs him closer.

“You’re safe here,” Iroh says. Zuko shakes his head and sits up straighter.

“What...What happened?” He asks. He’s not a stranger to nightmares but he’s never really had one that didn’t go away when he woke up.

“Probably a flashback, nephew,” Iroh says. “With help and guidance, they can go away.”

Zuko shakes his head and leans against Iroh. He knows what kind of help and guidance Iroh’s talking about and he knows he can’t do that.

He’s too far gone.

Too damaged. Too frightened.

And not worth it. He figured long ago he was meant to suffer. And even though it hurts him, he’ll live like it for as long as he can bear.

“It’s alright if you’re not ready yet, Zuko,” Iroh says and lays him back down in bed and strokes his hair. Zuko hums in comfort and Iroh pulls the blanket back up around his shoulders. “We’ll always be here.”

Zuko sighs and lets his eyes fall shut. He falls asleep with his uncle stroking his hair and humming a lullaby. He feels safe again after that.

The first time he feels loved (by someone other than his sister or uncle) he’s seventeen and sitting in a park with Sokka. He’s had a hard day. School was long and Jet was cruel and therapy was challenging and he’s just tired. He’s curled up against Sokka’s chest and buries his face in his shoulder. 

“Laura said there would be Downs but there’s usually a reason for them,” Zuko mumbles. “Like I’ll have a nightmare or flashbacks and it’ll throw me off. But I did everything right, Sokka. I took my meds, I went to bed early, I ate all my meals and I just woke up...Down.”

“It happens sometimes, baby,” Sokka says and runs his hand down Zuko’s arm. “I have days like that with my ADHD and anxiety. I’ll do everything that makes me feel better and still wake up unfocused and jittery.”

Zuko sighs and snuggles closer to his boyfriend. “Then what’s the point of any of this? Why am I even trying if I’m never going to stay better?”

Sokka hugs him and kisses his head. “I’d say that you’re staying better.”

“How?”

“You didn’t give up today just because it’s a Down. You did everything right today, too. It’s okay to have bad days.”

Zuko shrugs and Sokka adjusts him to sit across from him. “I’m tired, Sokka,” Zuko whispers.

“I know, angel,” Sokka murmurs back. “It’s hard and I’m so proud of you.” Zuko leans into the hand on his cheek and sighs again.

“Did he know that I’d wind up like this?” Zuko asks. “Ozai? Do you think he knew he was doing this to me?”

“I don’t know, baby,” Sokka says. “All I know is that he deserves to rot in hell for what he did to you.”

Zuko’s quiet for a minute then fiddles with Sokka’s fingers. His own ache and tiny sharp pangs of pain run down his fingers to his wrist. “Will...Will you still like me if...if I keep having a hard time? Do you still like me even though I’m a mess?”

Sokka pulls him closer until they’re chest to chest and Sokka rests his forehead against Zuko’s. “I will love you no matter what,” he says into the space between them. Zuko presses closer.

“You love me?” He asks. They’ve been dating for a year and neither of them has said it yet. Zuko’s been thinking it for ages but didn’t want to scare off the only person who has ever looked at him and romantically liked what they saw.

Sokka grins and gives him a chaste kiss. “Yeah. I love you, Zuko.”

Zuko basically tackles him to the ground and lays on his chest. “I...I love you, too,” he says and he can feel how warm his face is. Sokka holds his face in his hands and gives him another kiss.

“Still a Down?” Sokka asks. Zuko giggles and shakes his head.

Sokka pulls him down for another kiss and then,

“What are you two knuckleheads doing?” Toph’s voice trills over the park. “Aang keeps oohing and ahhing.”

“Well, we were kissing each other, but now it no longer seems appropriate,” Sokka says. Zuko giggles again and then Katara rushes over and gives him a hug.

“I know you had a bad day, are you alright?” She asks. Zuko hugs her back and breathes in her perfume and buries his face in her sweater.

“I am now,” he whispers. Katara pulls away and ruffles his hair.

“Good. Well, we’re going to have a friendship picnic anyway. Suki!” Katara calls and Suki produces a basket from behind her back and grins.

“We stopped at Aang’s place for a blanket,” Suki adds and Aang sets the blanket up next to Sokka. Sokka rolls over in the grass until he’s laying on the blanket and Suki brings the basket over. Katara stands up and offers Zuko her hand.

He doesn’t flinch.

He’s not afraid.

It’s the happiest he’s ever felt.

He takes Katara’s hand, stands up, and goes to his friends.

He feels happy again after this.

**Author's Note:**

> I think the next part is going to be the last one but thank you so much for reading!  
> Also, again, I'm sorry.


End file.
